


Go Tell Aunt Rhody

by HoldenTheSquid



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Amnesiac Reader, F/M, Female Reader, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 08:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoldenTheSquid/pseuds/HoldenTheSquid
Summary: Go tell aunt Rhody.Go tell aunt Rhody.Go tell aunt Rhodythat everybody's dead.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to the remix of Go Tell Aunt Rhody and had such an idea I couldn't just keep it to myself!

You had promised yourself you would never go back to Dulvey.

The day you ran crying to your car, tears staining your vision so badly you could hardly drive away, that was the day you swore up and down to yourself that you'd never walk through these woods again. You'd never breathe this air again. You'd never think of _him _again.__

Your counselor had told you it was necessary for you to come back. "Closure" was the word they'd used. For some reason, the wounds this place had given you had never felt less closed than in this moment. You parked your car and killed the engine, knowing you'd have to walk the rest of the way from this point in the swamp. Taking a breath and steeling yourself, you opened the door and got out.

The humid, hot air hit you like a wall of bricks and for a moment you simply stood there struggling to catch your breath. You closed your eyes and counted to ten, and when you opened them you felt one foot step in front of the other, walking fatefully towards the now desolate house you spent most of your childhood in. Anxiety melted into annoyance as you found the front gate locked and had to make your way further into the vegetation to get to the guest house. You held onto the frustration and let it drive you, knowing that if you gave into your fear you wouldn't be able to keep going on.

_Now if only you could remember what you were afraid of. ___

There were certain parts of your past that you just plain couldn't remember. "Coping mechanism" were the words your counselor used, although you considered it a mildly frustrating blessing. Sure, there were times you got curious, but then you would start to feel the dread creeping in along with it and you'd decide it wasn't worth it to know. You remembered growing up with the Bakers, being close friends with their two children for the majority of your childhood. After that, it was blank up until the day you left in a hurry. Your counselor suggested you return to the old house, promising you'd made such great progress in the past few years that you had the tools to process any memories that popped up. You reluctantly agreed, and here you were, standing at the door of the guest house on a dreary afternoon.

Walking inside was your first mistake. The smell of rotting wood and rotting flesh and rotting in general was so strong you had to hold onto the wall to steady yourself. A swift current of dank air swept past you and shut the front door behind you, leaving you in complete darkness. You tried to slow your ever-increasing heart rate as the darkness pressed against you, so thick it was almost tangible on your skin. With shaking hands, you pulled you phone out of your pocket and turned the flashlight on, quickly making note that you were at 79% battery and had no service. Slowly, you moved to open the front door, and found it was locked. Tears stung your eyes and you had to make the conscious resolve not to sit down next to the door and just cry. You had been here before, you used to spend so many hours here as a kid...yet you couldn't shake the feeling that the house felt entirely wrong. Like seeing a childhood pet sick, you were scared and confused by the unfamiliar familiarity of everything.

You crept into the kitchen and had to hold back the bile in your throat as the smell of decay only increased. When you heard footsteps approaching fast behind you, you froze up, silently cursing yourself for doing so. You turned and saw Jack Baker just in time for him to slam a snow shovel into the side of your head. You didn't even feel yourself crumple to the floor.

You awoke slowly, a throbbing pain in your head as you tried sleepily to move your arms and found them restrained. The encroaching panic helped you awaken quicker, and you snapped to attention, seeing the entire Baker family staring at you around a loaded dinner table. You felt your stomach heave, and for a moment the worry struck you that you would throw up on yourself and look like an idiot in front of all of them. Then the worry struck you that they were all here in the first place. The house was supposed to be abandoned.

It was after you'd been frantically looking at each of their grey faces for any sign of the people you once knew that you realized Marguerite was cooing to you gently, crooning how good it was to see you again and how much they'd all missed you and how lonely Zoe and Lucas have been since you left. You tried to speak but found your throat so dry you could only manage a pathetic croaking. Zoe looked at the floor and couldn't seem to bring herself to look up, in contrast to Lucas, who couldn't seem to look away. His hollow face and bright blue eyes searched your face for, well, _anything. _You couldn't read him real well, but you could almost sense an urgency coming from him that you didn't understand.__

__"So, (y/n)" Jack butted in, interrupting Marguerite's excited reunion. "Welcome home. We're all glad ta see ya back in the family, ain't we kids?"_ _

__Lucas nodded breathlessly, and Zoe still simply sat there staring at her feet._ _

__"But", you finally managed to croak out, "aren't you all...dead?"_ _


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was raised in a deep, dark hole,  
> a prisoner with no parole.  
> They locked me up, and took my soul...  
> Shame though what they made.

Dinner that night was eventful to say the least.

A plate of _something _was put in front of you. It didn't look like anything you'd ever seen; some type of meat with black ooze coating it that made you want to vomit more than waking up had. You looked at it as the entire family looked at you with bated breath, waiting for a reaction. Feeling the sweat begin to bead on your forehead, you simply looked up and smiled, stalling for time. The Baker family all seemed to have come unhinged in ways you couldn't fully identify, but you knew for certain that you didn't want to anger anyone right off the bat.__

__"I, uhh..." you stammered, "I can't eat with my hands bound?" It came out more a question than anything, but you felt the tension at the table release like a physical sigh. Marguerite even giggled a little, but instead of lightening the situation it seemed to only make it darker._ _

__"O' of course ya can't! Jack I tell ya what were we thinkin'? Here (y/n) comes all tha way home fo' dinnah and we treat her like an animal, expectin' her ta eat wit no hands! Zoe, ya can feed her, can't ya darlin'?" At the mention of her name, Zoe stiffened like lightning had run down her spine. You thought you heard a barely audible "Yes ma" before she shuffled to her feet like a dead man shuffles to the gallows. She picked a morsel off your plate and held it to your mouth, making eye contact with you for the first time. It was your turn to be shocked when you saw genuine fear in her eyes as she held whatever it was they were eating up to your mouth, as if she was afraid you were going to bite her, or somehow set her on fire with your willpower alone. Your brows crinkled together, shooting her a quick confused look before all your attention was drawn back to the 'food' you'd been served by a harsh smell directly under your nose. Your stomach's knots were in knots, but as you glanced frantically around the table you found no respite in any of the Bakers staring back at you. Marguerite had a smile wide, muttering to herself about how she couldn't wait for you to have some of her cooking in you again. Jack watched like a hawk, the stern patriarch of the table was clearly monitoring your reactions very closely. Lucas was practically buzzing, leaning forwards in his seat to see you even closer, eyes bulging out of his sleepy sockets. You opened your mouth a minuscule amount and felt Zoe quickly shove the morsel in._ _

__You nearly choked. It was sour in so many ways you didn't want to comprehend. As you chewed the rubbery meat you felt bile raise in your throat and quickly, forcefully swallowed it back down, along with the half-chewed food. Having eaten whatever they'd given you, you felt invincible. Running with the feeling of being able to conquer anything, you looked Jack Baker dead in the eyes and said "thank you" in a strong tone, prompting Zoe to sit back down. You silently thanked her genuinely as she took the cue and went back to her seat. Without use of your or her hands, you wouldn't have to eat anymore tonight. Hopefully._ _

__Marguerite was ecstatic, clapping and gushing to you about how she knew you were _really _back home. You didn't understand most of what she said, but you frantically smiled and nodded along.___ _

____You watched the Bakers eat for the rest of dinner, noticing Zoe only shuffled the contents of her plate around and Lucas took a single tepid bite before putting his fork down and slamming his hands on the table._ _ _ _

____"So, uhh, Pa..." Lucas started, his leg jackhammering with nerves under the table, making it jiggle lightly. "I think (y/n) should err...should stay in the barn with me, right? I mean, she ain't gon' stay in the house and Zoe's trailer is too-" He was cut off abruptly by Jack slamming a fork through his hand and into the table, pinning it there. Lucas simply growled in response, grabbing the bloody fork and slowly easing it out of his hand. You felt yourself go lightheaded, not sure how he hadn't passed out from pain or why Jack had just stabbed his own son. None of this made sense, you felt like you were in a sick episode of The Twilight Zone._ _ _ _

____"Now son, I won' be havin' none of that." Jack drawled slowly, but with a certain venom. "Zoe's trailer is perfectly big enough fo' the two of 'em, and there ain't no reason fo' ya to be keepin' girls in yer barn. Now, dinnah is done, Zoe, why don' ya take (y/n) to yer trailer and make her comfortable."_ _ _ _

____Lucas was first up from the table, throwing his chair back and stomping out of the dining room talking to himself in an agitated manner. Marguerite began to pick up dishes as Zoe quickly cut the ropes binding your hands, motioning for you to follow her out of the house and into the yard._ _ _ _

____The hot Louisiana air felt refreshing after how stifling the atmosphere in the kitchen had been, and you managed a couple deep breaths of it before you doubled over and threw up in a bush next to the stairs. Zoe simply stood and watched, not continuing on without you but not offering to hold your hair, either. She seemed sharper than Jack and Marguerite, and because of this her weird, distant apathy was beginning to piss you off. As you stood up, you wiped your mouth and opened it to speak before she cut you off. "Jus'...wait until we get to tha trailer." Her tone was firm but her eyes were begging enough to make you nod and continue behind her silently._ _ _ _

____As you entered the trailer, you noticed it was much cleaner than the house had been and you again thanked Zoe silently. Sure, a clean environment was a creature comfort, but you could use one right about now. The pressure of the day unloaded onto you and you felt yourself start shaking and crying. Turning to look at you, Zoe offered no comfort, though her face betrayed her. You could have sworn she looked like she felt bad for you._ _ _ _

____"Here," she said, tossing you some of her pajamas. "These shoul' fit jus' fine. Ya can sleep whereva ya want, but I'm takin' tha bed."_ _ _ _

____You cracked. Her matter-of-fact manner, like this was a sleepover with a middle school enemy, broke you and before you realized it you were screaming at her through tears._ _ _ _

____"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?" and then hesitating to wipe your nose on your sleeve, you added, "...all of you?"_ _ _ _

____Zoe just sat and stared at you for a long while, her eyes steeling and softening as if she was arguing with herself internally. "Why did...why did ya come back here?" she finally replied._ _ _ _

____Glad you were making any headway, even if she didn't answer anything you'd just asked, you responded. "My counselor told me I should come back to see if I could remember what happened between me being a kid here and me leaving. The house was supposedly abandoned, so I thought it would be a quick stroll down memory lane, but then suddenly I was attacked by your dad and fed God-knows-what and on top of it all you keep treating me like a wild animal you just dragged in from the ditch!"_ _ _ _

____The silence was deafening. Not as deafening as the sigh that left Zoe's lips as she put her head in her hands. "Ya don' remember" she muttered quietly to the room. After repeating it to herself a couple times, she looked up at you and rubbed her eyes, as if you were a ghost she expected she could just blink away. Despite her best efforts, you still sat on the floor stubbornly, your eyes red from crying and your face set from frustration. "Ya grew up here. Ya had ya own house with ya own parents and stuff, but ya spent mos' of ya time here wit' us."_ _ _ _

____"I know." you said flatly. "I remember growing up here. I just don't really remember anything between high school starting and me leaving." Zoe sucked in air and fell back on her mattress, letting it all out in a slow breath and closing her eyes._ _ _ _

____"That ain't mah place to tell ya," she whispered. "Gotta ask Lucas about that. He can tell ya if he wants ya to know. Fo' now, please jus' let it go an' get some sleep. You'll need it. Plus, Ah'm goin' to sleep, so ya can't talk to me no more. Nothin' else to do but sleep."_ _ _ _

____With a sigh of frustration you felt the panic headache start creeping in. You could feel it all itching the back of your brain, the memories so close to your grasp. 'Lucas Baker' you repeated the name to yourself over and over, feeling the way it tugged your past towards the light where you could more clearly see it. 'Lucas Baker, Lucas Baker...'_ _ _ _

________Sensations started flooding back to you, a jumbled mess of stimulus that overwhelmed you and didn't make any sense. A lanky arm around your shoulder, slowly plunked out piano music, the feeling of smooth metal in your hands, those bright, blue eyes..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________You opened the door to the trailer frantically and threw up outside, shaking from exerting yourself mentally and emotionally. You wiped a sheen sweat off of your forehead and remembered the way Lucas had been looking at you at dinner._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________You knew it would only be a matter of time before you had to face your past._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
